thank you my friend
by aleushadrake
Summary: a moment in which mordecai reflects on the person that gave him so much, on the person that gave the want to live. ONE SHOT


Thank you my friend

He lays there beside her, his beautiful wife. Proof that his friend was right. Mordecai rolls onto his side and presses a soft kiss to her neck. He loves the way she smiles at the action even in her sleep. She charmed him in an instant and captivated him in only a moment. It didn't take very long for him to fall, but only a moment longer to admit it.

He looks across the expanse of her bare back to the open window, where sits the large Bird on its perch with its head under his tucked in its wing. Mordecai sighs letting his gaze wander the walls, to a picture in a small black frame with broken glass. He knows the picture well, the frozen memory of the last time he had seen his good friend.

Medals line the shelf beneath the frame, the don't do anything really. He isn't proud of how he earned them, his eyes fall closed and he allows himself to recall that conversation. Roland had been such a boring by the book kind of man, seemed to have little to offer a conversation at first. To be honest, Mordecai had avoided him... in the beginning.

It didn't go unnoticed, so they argued. And they fought.

They wound up leaving each other battered and bruised. In that moment they had taken a step forward, got a chance to know each other. they had to pulled apart to stop them from going to far. It was only after the fact that Roland realized just how much damage Mordecai had done. Now Mordecai wasn't very strong in comparison to him but he was smart and fast and clever. The next time they saw each other was on a debriefing, it had been very tense for every one in the room. Especially since they had been partnered together.

It's difficult not to like someone who will bleed for you.

As it turns out when he's lightheaded from blood loss Roland has a sense of humor, it's violent dark and morbid.

Perfect.

Mordecai having this time to observe his partner he quickly catches on that this is usually what's going through Rolands skull.

It is after this mission that they decide they work well together, they fall in sync and it keeps victory close at hand. They celebrate their victories with beers and Rowdy conversations. They are in step even outside missions. As years pass they stay close to each other, for Mordecai he felt as though he had discovered a lost brother. Roland finally felt human, it was good to break out of himself every now and again. Although you would never catch him out of line without Mordecai beside him.

Roland turned out to be an aviator, they saw less of each other on base. So they recalled moments while they where apart, like brothers reflecting on a childhood they looked upon with fondness. It was in one of these moments that Roland named his first fighter plane.

In big bold red letters splashed above the right wing was the word

BLOODWING

When Mordecai had walked up and seen this, he laughed -he laughed until his eyes watered and his stomach hurt. He was doubled over with his arms over his stomach trying to shut himself up.

It was a strange kind of reference to a moment when they had gone out hunting, Mordecai had clipped a bird's wing from a great distance. It fell from the sky like it had died, although when they had gone to pick it up the damn thing sprang up! It squeaked and it squawked and screeched, it flapped and snapped at them til they backed off and let it go.

In their drunken glory they had called the Bird a warrior and had given it a matching name. Roland had named his plane for the Bird, in the hope that much like the bird it wouldn't go down without a fight.

Mordecai smiled fondly at the memory, as he thought back it was after then that he began to see even less of his friend, his brother. Somewhere in the time between his visits Mordecai had found himself in the company of a woman, a very sharp looking woman with venomous green eyes.

His time with her was brief, although long enough for her to bring grief and pain. She walked away from him leaving behind doubt guilt ,self hate and miles of injured pride.

It had had left a deep impression in Mordecai, Roland could see this even though it had been so long since they had seen each other. Their talk was along one in which Roland had to offer back what Mordecai had given him.

A hope that his life would move forward, that it would get better. That most importantly there would be someone there to make it worth it.

It had taken all damn night to get a laugh, but when they parted it was with a smile. The smile however was short-lived, as the next time they saw each other was when Mordecai was called to identify a body. How bizarre how the sight of a flag stretched out over a large wooden case can be so painful. Even more so the fact that it was only Mordecai who remained standing there while the rain fell and the casket was engulfed by the earth.

There is not enough time in the world nor words strong enough to express the feeling of watching a part of yourself being buried. The way it feels when strong fingers press tightly against the wick of your already struggling flickering soul.

Mordecai was stunned when he realized someone was watching him, a skinny old man with a round belly. When he looked at the man, the old man lifted a lifted a pruney hand and motioned for him to come over. Hesitation was first but he couldn't stand there forever could he. Could he? Mordecai turned away and began towards the old man standing under the tree near the curb.

His pace was slow, it didn't seem to bother the old man who looked at Mordecai with the most forlorn expression. It took a moment for Mordecai to recognize it, the scars poking out from the mans collar. These quick little dashes of uprooted flesh, where shrapnel had once grazed across his skin. The want to be angry at the man for lingering was quickly quelled.

"you are Moredecai v-"

yea, I am n' who're you?"

He wasn't angry but he wasn't happy either. The old man wasn't at all put off.

"now I know this is a bad time, but your brother there was very specific."

Mordecai arced an eyebrow at the old man.

" he told me that if something should happen, I ought to get to you right away."

"and whys that?"

" I don't know, not my place to ask that sort of thing."

"..."

The narrow old man places his hand into his jacket pocket, and removes a yellow envelope, folded up in the way...

in the way Roland would shove important papers into his pocket before hurrying out of a room. He was organized and clean cut, but forever in a hurry. Mordecai watched as the old man unfolded the envelope and plucked out a crinkled but important looking paper. The writing was hard to read upside down from where he stood in front of the old man. Although he knew what it said even in those big fancy spiraled black letters.

Last will and testament.

" now I could read this whole thing to you, but I don't really think you care all too much for trivialities. Now he told me to make sure this got to his brother, all of it. Every last thing he owned...he wanted to make sure that you got it. That you would take care of these things for him."

That lump swelled up in Mordecais throat cutting off his voice, he hadn't a clue how to respond to this. A while later He had signed for things... on fancy paper with all its fancy text with with his scratchy choppy lopsided handwriting. To be honest it had never occurred to him that Roland was wealthy, not until he was handed a ring with two keys and a long list of accounts that would be transferred to his name.

" you know, he told things would get better. That eventually I'd meet someone who makes this crap worth it... maybe I will but why couldn't he get that someone too?"

The old man looks up at Mordecai knowing dam well how hard it is not to weep for lost comrades.

" you know, I've been known Roland a good long while... I was his mothers lawyer you know. I am how he was emancipated at 14, I am how he did a good lot of things. So I know a bit, that boy, and what I do know is that he never called his mother 'mom'. He could hardly look at his father and no one brought him greater shame than his siblings- whom he never called brother or sister. He didn't talk to them. So let me tell you something, if anyone needed someone to make a crappy life worth living, it was that boy. And you did it, you gave a reason to wake up. You made not having a reason to things perfectly alright and you made him laugh. Now you know he wasn't greedy- why would he ask for more?"

These vast and many years later, that statement still sang in his mind as clear and true as a bell. At the moment his a small sound emerged from around the open door, he smiled and kissed his wifes shoulder before hushing her back to sleep. A moment later he stood up and stretched much like lazy cat before walking out in naught but thin pajama bottoms that swayed and crumpled over his bare feet. Across the hallway just a few feet away another door was open, in the room was a large oaken crib with a great big capitol letter R carved into the foot of it.

There in the crib was a small little lump of noise and hair wriggling as he squeaked for attention. Mordecai leaned over the side of the crib rail and found luminous blue eyes looking up at him. Moredcai smiled down at the dark skinned boy who smiled back before raising him up and holding him close. It was times like this when Mordecai felt greedy. He had a beautiful wife who loved him endlessly, a very handsome boy child to carry his name and great manor to call home. He left the room purposefully swaying as he walked down the hallway passing various portraits and photos. As they walked along Moredecai found himself looking a photo of Roland just after his acceptance into the military. He closes his eyes and presses his lips to the infants forehead, whispering as he does.

"thank you"


End file.
